


Club

by Kirbyfest



Category: Iron Man (Movies), The Pretender
Genre: Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-08
Updated: 2014-05-08
Packaged: 2018-01-23 23:44:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1583792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kirbyfest/pseuds/Kirbyfest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Women almost never say no to Tony Stark.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Club

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Aj (aj2245)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aj2245/gifts).



He's tired of all these people and desperately needs another martini, but when he gets to the bar there's only one bartender on duty and a woman's already waiting, tapping her fingers on the ledge. Tony hates waiting, and she's standing between him and his liquor.

He's tempted to pull rank to get a drink, but pauses as he takes her in. Heels too high, skirt too short, legs too long. Good god damn. She's older than he usually goes for, but he can't help it. She's fucking gorgeous, and he turns on the Tony Stark charm at full power. "Why, hello. Can I get you a drink?"

She turns her head, eyes flick him up and down, and she turns back to watch the bartender who appears to be rummaging through a cabinet looking for something. "No, thank you. I'm already ahead of you."

The woman must know who he is. Not only has his face been plastered heroically across a thousand newspapers worldwide, this is _his_ benefit. Women almost never say no to Tony Stark. Even if they don't sleep with him, they notice him. Flirt with him. Laugh at his jokes. This one just looked at him like he didn't exist.

That shouldn't be so damn hot.

The bartender stands up, barely registering him before he looks back at the woman, terror all over his face. "I found it," he says, brandishing a bottle. Shit, the bartender's more afraid of this woman than he is of his own boss.

She raises one eyebrow. "So? Pour."

"Scotch?" Tony says, watching as the bartender scrambles for a glass. "I'd have pegged you for a martini girl. Extra dry, extra olives."

"You'd have been wrong."

"I'm not wrong very often," Tony says, his most shit-eating smile on his face. This smile has brought down women in 20 countries, but the woman waiting for her scotch just looks bored.

Really bored, not faking it.

Though he can't exactly sleep with random women any more-- big glowing chest implants are hell on the sex life-- this is the kind of thing he can't just ignore. So he moves in closer, counting on his charm to win her over. Eventually.

She smells good enough to eat. Which is, potentially, an option.

The woman sighs. "You're in my personal space, Mr. Stark."

He turns it up another notch, which he hadn't even been sure was possible. "You're the most gorgeous woman at my benefit, and I don't even know your name. The possibilities are endless."

She tilts her head, meeting his eyes for a long hot moment, then runs a finger along his jawline. "I've had just about enough of smart men with superhero complexes, thanks," she purrs, lips nearly touching his cheek. "Besides. I have it on good authority that you prefer blondes."

A half-smile, and she collects her drink and walks away.

Damn.

He watches her go, laughing despite himself. If Tony didn't know better, he'd swear she was swinging her ass just a little more than necessary, and he enjoys the view for a moment before he feels a tap on his shoulder.

"It's time for your speech." Pepper's there, as always, and there's something in her amused look that makes him think she saw what just happened and thinks it's funny as hell. Women. Is it a club?

As Pepper guides him towards the podium, he sees the woman in the crowd. She's talking to Rhodey, the bastard, but glances over at them as they pass.

Tony's not sure, but out of the corner of his eye, he swears he sees Pepper wink at her.

It's a fucking club. It has to be.


End file.
